


Capture

by Area_Monarch



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:54:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Area_Monarch/pseuds/Area_Monarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What might have happened if Anya succeeded in bringing Clarke back to the Grounder camp after escaping Mount Weather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Capture

**Author's Note:**

> This is just kind a headcanon that exploded on my word document. For the sake of argument, Finn doesn't have a mental and moral breakdown, because reasons.

Clarke tried to steady her breathing as she became aware of where she was.

She could faintly hear the rough language of the Grounder's from outside the room she was kept.

Her arms and legs were tied tightly together, and her arms were wrapped around a pole behind her that went from the floor to the ceiling, making her unable to escape.

The last thing she remembered was jumping off a dam.

Anya. She must have brought her here.

The sheet of leather that hung over the doorway shifted and three figures stepped in.

Anya was the only one she recognized. 

The woman beside her was dark skinned, with hair to match. She glared down at the blonde as she rested a hand threateningly on her sword.

The third was taller, but stooped over slightly, looking nervously at her now and again. Her long brown hair was tied back with a strip of cloth, and her clothing was... normal. No armor, or the like. She was holding a bucket of water and had a bag of what seemed to be gauze. 

"This is the leader?" the darker woman demanded, turning to Anya.

"Yes, Indra" the Grounder replied. Clarke glared over at her. "She was in Mount Weather. But not as a prisoner." The words were snarled out, and her lip curled as she stared at the blonde.

"Anya, I didn't--"

"Silence!" Indra snapped. "Girl, see to her wounds." She paused. "Even though they will be reopened soon."

Clarke felt a flush of fear, but managed to keep it from showing. She clenched her jaw as the two left, leaving the third girl alone.

The blonde eyed her carefully as she inched forward, taking the bucket and wringing out the cloth inside it.

"What's your name?" Clarke asked quietly. 

She didn't answer for a second, her eyes trained on Clarke's wounds. When she finally touched the cloth to a cut, she whispered, "Lexa."

"Lexa... How long have I been here?"

The girl looked up at her curiously. "Anya brought you here last night."

Clarke swallowed, pressing her head against the pole behind her. "Shit."

"What..." The girl trailed off. "What did the Mountain Men do to my people?"

The blonde looked down at her, eyes pained. "They... They use their blood. As medicine."

"Anya said they turned our people into Reapers. Do you know how?"

Clarke shook her head, accidentally pressing her cheek into the rough cloth, hissing at the contact. "Not entirely. But the Mountain Men had some device... Some sound. It made the Reapers stop attacking..." She began to mutter to herself. "If we could replicate the frequency..." She trailed off.

"You told Anya your people were in the Mountain." Lexa said. "How many?"

Clarke frowned. "Why are you asking me all of this? Shouldn't your Commander do that?" She thought back to Indra and shuddered, trying not to imagine how _that_ interrogation would go.

"I am curious," Lexa said. She pressed a square of gauze onto Clarke's forehead. "I've never seen a Sky person before."

Still, the blonde frowned. "This is an interrogation," she realized. "You're finding out what you can like this before you torture me."

Lexa's lip curled downwards, her eyebrows furrowing. "I am just curious."

"If you were curious, you wouldn't ask about my people's numbers," she hissed. "Forty seven. In the mountain. There are hundreds of your people."

The brunette looked surprised. "You believe this to be an interrogation... But you're answering?"

"Because I have nothing to _hide_ ," Clarke groaned, pressing her head against the pole again. "You and your people are so damn _paranoid_. I've tried to make peace with you."

"Anya told us," Lexa said, raising an eyebrow. "Two of her warriors were killed by your people."

"Jasper saw them in the trees," Clarke snapped. "They were aiming weapons at me. He did what he had to."

The Grounder paused, eyes roving the blonde's face. "And now? After we have kidnapped you? Threaten you? You still wish for peace?"

"I don't care what you've done to me," Clarke insisted. "I need my people to be safe. And an alliance is the only way to make that happen."

Lexa didn't speak for a few minutes. She focused on finishing up the bandages on Clarke's body. There were a few she couldn't reach, due to the ropes and her clothing, but there was nothing serious.

After she'd finished, she stood, striding to the door, and called something out in Grounder.

Clarke felt a flush of fear. _Oh god, it's happening._ Her mind flew back to Murphy. What they'd done to him. She curled her fingers into a fist, as if that would do anything.

Lexa turned to stare at her, casting a searching look over the Sky girl.

After a moment, Anya and Indra strode in, carrying a set of armor, which was immediately placed on the girl before them.

"You're the Commander," Clarke realized.

Lexa's mouth curled momentarily in amusement. "Yes, Clarke. And I think we have much to discuss." She handed Anya a knife, nodding to the blonde.

The warrior took the weapon and strode with purpose over to Clarke. The girl tried to control her breathing, forcing herself to appear calm as the weapon drew closer--

\--and cut the rope binding her legs. Then her arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked Lexa.

"You claim to want peace," the Commander said. "And you understand the Mountain Men in a way we do not. You lived amongst them. You escaped their castle." She paused, reaching into her pocket and drawing out a sheet of paper. Clarke recognized it immediately. "You have a map. These things make you useful to us. So... Let us discuss an alliance."

\---

After Mount Weather was taken, it's survivors holed into the mountain for both their safety and the safety of those above the ground, Clarke went to find Lexa.

The Commander was sitting in her room, the one Clarke had been confined to when they'd first met.

"Why aren't you celebrating with the others?" the blonde asked.

Lexa frowned, looking surprised at her arrival. "My warriors do not need their Commander watching their every move. Not tonight. They deserve a break."

"So do you," Clarke pointed out. "What are you doing?"

"I'm planning border patrols," she said, scowling. "And considering the line between your people and mine. You mother is far too generous with her claim."

"She tends to do that," Clarke scoffed. "Push it back a mile. She's just testing you."

Lexa smiled faintly. "Should you really be helping me take land from your people?"

"I think you need to get away from that map," the blonde said. "And if sacrificing a mile will do that, then I guess I can take that."

"What did you have in mind, Clarke of the Sky People?" Lexa asked, pushing the map a few inches away.

Clarke grinned, raising her hand to show the Commander her gift. "Moonshine, of course."

Lexa's eyebrows furrowed. "It is unwise for a Commander to be inebria--"

"We won, Lexa," Clarke interrupted. "Give yourself a day."

The brunette paused, eyeing the bottle. "And will you be joining me?"

"I don't have anywhere else to be," Clarke said, smiling faintly. "So if you want me here, I'm yours."

Lexa's lips curled up slightly, her eyes meeting Clarke's for a few long seconds. Finally, she said, "I think I'd like that very much."

\---

They'd been drinking for nearly an hour when their words finally drifted back to Clarke's captivity.

"What made you consider an alliance?" the blonde asked first.

Lexa took a sip from the bottle, as if to buy time from answering. "You were about to be tortured," she began. "You knew it. I could see your fear. But still you insisted upon an alliance."

"So because I was desperate," Clarke teased.

"No," Lexa snapped, scowling. The strength in the word made the Sky girl pause, shocked. "It was not... You were willing to overlook personal indignity, Clarke. Because it was good for your people. That is what makes you a leader. You understand personal sacrifice."

Clarke didn't say anything for a few minutes, simply considered the words. "And do you? Understand it?"

"Yes." The Commander didn't speak for several moments. Silence coated the room as they exchanged the bottle a few times. "My... I had someone. Who was taken from me. Taken... Because she was mine."

"You loved her?" Clarke whispered.

"I did." Lexa reached over and took the bottle, taking a long dreg. Once she'd finished, she continued, "The ones who took her wanted information on me. That she didn't have. They tortured her. Killed her. Cut off her head."

"What did you do to them?" the blonde whispered.

There was another moment of silence. Lexa seemed to be debating whether or not to answer. "I formed an alliance with them."

"You did what you had to for your people," Clarke whispered.

"I sit next to the woman who kill my... Who killed Costia every month. Every meeting... She breathes. And every breath is agony to me."

Clarke reached forward, taking the bottle and setting it on the table. She crept forward, moving slowly, trying not to frighten the girl, as she slid her arms around her back, pressing her tightly to her chest.

Lexa let out a stuttering breath. "Do you think I betrayed her?"

"No," the blonde said. "I think you did what needed to be done. And the fact that you question it means you didn't betray her."

Lexa snaked her arms around Clarke's waist, nodding into her chest. "I will regret this is the morning," she warned. "But know that I do not regret it now."

Clarke smiled, pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of the Commander's head. "I'll just have to make sure you remember that tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> It wasn't the most eloquent thing I've ever written, but I like the idea of drunk Clexa talking about feelings. Because they probably would never do it sober.
> 
> Hope y'all liked it. I'll post another oneshot tomorrow, probably.


End file.
